


Morning Sweets

by Anaya_of_Wolves



Series: Welcome to the Family, Starling [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Baking, Cooking, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Genderswap, Grandmother and Granddaughter bonding, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Short & Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, baking cookies, spending time with family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anaya_of_Wolves/pseuds/Anaya_of_Wolves
Summary: A short and simply fluffy fic with Miranda helping her grandma Adela in the kitchen, baking cookies early in the morning.





	Morning Sweets

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea of doing a fic with Miranda spending time with her grandmothers as well, but I really didn't have a definite idea of just what she would do. Then a spark of inspiration came to do something short and sweet, to not really sweat over all the details about the fic. So, this was spawned, and honestly it is super cute.

The little radio resting on a clear space of kitchen counter nearby played out soft music, with gentle piano and saxophone sounds dancing in the warm air. A delicate waltz that combined the soft piano keys with the loudness of the brass woodwind. The soft warmth of the sunlight streaming in through the thin, white curtains hanging above the sink added to the peaceful serenity of the morning. A bubble of secluded quietness engulfed the large kitchen, making such an expansive space appear smaller than it was for just the two needing the space. The radio was only accompanied by the soft sounds of spoons hitting against the sides of mixing bowls and soft words of helpful instruments.

"Now, little one, just tip the bowl," the older woman instructed, smiling sweetly down at the little girl on the step stool, “So that you get it to evenly pour into the other batter.” The little girl with a head full of chestnut curls turned her face up to return the smile back across her flour-stained, round cheeks.

“Okay, grandma!” the little girl cheerily replied, looking back to the small bowl between her hands and being careful as she tipped the semi-liquid contents into the larger bowl the other had. Her pour was slow, at first, before the little girl began to tilt the bowl higher to cause the batter to move quicker and much faster than she had anticipated. A few drops began to slide down the rim of the bowl, showing off the myriad of colors mixed within the batter.

“Opps!” Miranda cried out, before sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth to focus harder on not letting anymore batter run free from going into the bowl rather than out. She corrected the tilt of the bowl, watching the flow lessen.

Her grandmother still grinned softly, radiating the warmth for her granddaughter steadily. It appeared that nothing the little girl could do could actually upset her. Then again, after raising already two generations of the present family and now getting to do the same with a third, it was so hard to actually be upset with any of them. Miranda, like the adults Adela knew before her, found her way deep into Adela’s heart to never be let go. Miranda would always have a place there.

“There! All in,” Miranda triumphantly stated, setting down the mixing bowl and looking over the assortment of ingredients before them on the counter, “Now what, grandma?”

Adela nodded her head once, pushing away the dirty, empty bowls further into the middle of the island counter they worked on. That bowl joined the rest of the utensils that would need some cleaning later. A mountain slowly in the making.

“Now, we just get a spoon and dip out the batter onto the cooking sheet,” Adela instructed clearly to the young girl, turning to reach over to grab said prepared metal pan. 

When the older woman turned back, Miranda was playfully dipping in a spoon into the batter and lifting it up. She watched as the batter would then dip off the spoon and drop back into the bowl with plopping noises. One particularly large drop of batter sent a drop splashing up and onto Miranda’s cheek. The little girl stood there stunned, eyes wide like she wasn’t able to believe what happened. She was only shocked out of such stupor when she felt a wet washcloth press against her cheek and a soft chuckle from her grandma.

“We do need to have some batter to cook with, little one.”

Miranda giggled gleefully, scrunching up her face in a big smile while Adela finished cleaning off the remains of the rest of their cooking mess that had made its home on the little girl’s face. Once finished, they both turned back to what they had been doing. Adela now assisted in helping Miranda dip the spoon into the batter and getting it onto the cooking tray without much more mess than what was usual.

The scent of cookies cooking and the heat of the oven hung heavy in the air, mixing with the softness and slowness of the jazz music still playing. The kitchen felt like paradise for the older woman, a way to find true peace with her family. To the little girl, it felt like home. Baking cookies with her grandma and knowing she would get to eat as many as she wanted was a dream come true for Miranda.


End file.
